


on gilded cloud

by Addison R (beyond_belief)



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: Gen, Sharing Clothes, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Addison%20R
Summary: Circumstances again require Enola and Tewksbury to swap outfits.
Relationships: Enola Holmes & Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	on gilded cloud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CorinaLannister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



"They're looking for you," Tewksbury says, ducking into the stuffy, smoky room and closing the door firmly. "Or rather, a young woman in a striped blue dress. Swap clothing with me and I'll lead them away from here, and you can return to the shop and finish questioning the assistant."

That's a remarkably good plan, if Enola does say so herself. The shop assistant seemed rather hesitant to speak to a woman about inventories and the uses for various chemicals - they were looking for a possible poisoner, after all - and he would perhaps be more inclined if she presented herself as a young gentleman in Tewksbury's dark brown breeches and tan jacket.

"You'll have to help me with some of these fastenings," she replies, turning to allow Tewksbury access to the row of tiny buttons down the back of the dress. "And I'm keeping this corset; it fits correctly now and has saved me from bodily harm on more than one occasion."

"Fair enough." 

Enola removes her hat, then gathers her hair up so that he might unfasten the buttons without strands getting caught in any loops. "No need to hurry, the more time I put between returning to the shop, the less likely the assistant is to understand it's me."

"I daresay that assistant wouldn't understand it to be you even if only mere minutes has passed. Remarkable how the change of clothes works so handily in your favor," he says dryly, and Enola laughs. She feels his fingers undoing the buttons, and as the dress loosens, she works her arms out of the close-fitting sleeves. 

Bodice slackened enough to free herself from the dress, Enola sets about doing so. The various underthings seem to rustle loudly in the small room. "Astounding, the things it takes to make one appear a woman," she hears Tewksbury mutter. He's gotten his coat and cravat off, and his boots so that he might get his breeches off as well, and is unfastening his blouse. 

"I would rather wear much plainer clothes," Enola admits, "but sometimes the unexpected formal dress works in my favor just as well as men's clothes."

"If I were a woman, I'd stage a rebellion. Wear trousers every day."

She lays the dress over the available chair and frowns at him. "Yes, until society insisted it was only right you dress properly." The words are almost sour in her mouth. She undoes the buckles for the bustle. "Nevertheless. We would both be shamed for standing here in our underthings."

Tewksbury raises his gaze to the ceiling, effecting a bored and unimpressed expression. "We are both perfectly covered," he points out. He hands over the breeches and suspenders. "You first, since I believe I'll need some assistance in putting this dress together correctly." 

The breeches are a little long, but tucked into her boots no one will notice. They're much more comfortable than the slightly heeled toe-pinchers she'd run around London in previously. The dress, on her, is long enough to hide the boots - she'd chosen them specifically in case a disguise was necessary. 

Hopefully no one will look closely at Tewksbury's feet. 

He manages to buckle the bustle on correctly as Enola finishes dressing, buttoning up the blouse-front and cuffs, adjusting the suspenders so that they don't slip down. She leaves the cravat loose around her neck for now, then picks the dress up again. "Bend down a little so I can get it over your head."

Tewksbury crouches awkwardly with his arms up. She gathers up all the layers of the dress, then drops it carefully over his head, getting the sleeves over his hands. He does an odd shimmy and it drops down - mostly. Some of the fabric gets caught on the bustle; Enola muffles a laugh in her elbow before fixing it, gently so that nothing rips, then resettles the waist to the right spot. "I look awful," Tewksbury groans.

"On the contrary, I think it's quite charming on you." She grins as she says it, but honestly, it's not bad. "A different sort of handsome."

He's looking down at his chest, hair falling over his eyes. "I generally don't show this much collarbone." 

The line of bone reminds her of a bird's wing, somehow. "I have a scarf, you won't freeze." 

She starts buttoning up the back of the dress and gets almost to the top, where his shoulders are slightly too wide for the dress. "And you'll need the scarf to hide these buttons that won't fasten. If we drape it right, no one will see them."

"This is certainly not what I thought I would be doing today." 

"You invited yourself along," she reminds him. 

"I suppose I did. Here, let me fix your cravat." 

Enola looks over his shoulder as he ties the fabric carefully, then tucks the ends into the collar of the shirt. "It suits you, honestly," Tewksbury says in a quiet voice. He prods the bump of it up a bit more beneath her chin. "Where did I put my jacket?"

"Over that barrel." She sits down in the chair to pull her boots on again, but instead watches Tewskbury walk across the small room. "You're leaning forward too much - pull your shoulders back a little."

"Like this?"

"Better. I'll pin my hat on you, and if you pretend you have to keep it balanced on your head, that will help." She sees in his face that he's imagining it, and his shoulders settle back a bit more. "That's more like it."

"I'm starting to wonder if I didn't think this through enough," he says, voice dry again. 

Enola laughs and tightens her boot laces. "It was your idea. And really, you only have to let them see you around a few corners. I know you're quick enough to not be caught."

He scoffs. "You think I can run in this?"

"If I can, you can," she tells him. He doesn't look convinced, so she punches him lightly in the arm. "Trade hats now?"

Her hair is easily tucked up under his cap, but he has to sit in the chair for Enola to pin her hat of mostly netting and flowers into his. "The pins aren't sharp," she assures him. "And they do work quite well if you need to pick a lock."

"I'll keep that in mind." Tewksbury holds perfectly still as she does her best to twist his dark hair into a somewhat convincing look. It's longer than when she helped him cut it in that field, but still barely to his chin. Strategic loosening of the netting helps to make the whole thing look more feminine. 

Finally, she drapes the shawl around his shoulders, hiding the undone buttons. "If you don't mind me saying so, you do look quite striking, and not entirely like a fish out of water," she says quietly when she's finished. The blue suits his skin tone, and while the vertical stripes accentuate his leanness, the bustle creates enough of a waist that he looks small, and not entirely masculine.

His dark eyes widen slightly, and he smiles. "I suppose I don't mind you saying. And the same goes for you." 

"Thank you. I think." Enola slides her arms into the jacket and buttons it. "Ready?"

"A moment." Tewksbury reaches to quickly fix the jacket's lapels. "There. Promise you won't lose my watch."

She can feel the weight of it tucked into a pocket. "I -"

"On second thought, I trust you." 

"Now that you've said that, I'll certainly lose it," she replies, and pushes her gloves into his hands.


End file.
